


i don't want your apologies

by vaultboii



Series: the vision's shield [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Helpful Vision, Hurt Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has Issues, Vision is trying his best, the shield is here for some reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6983989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultboii/pseuds/vaultboii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> “That’s all I get is sorry! Oh, I’m sorry I can’t make up my mind. Oh, I’m sorry I nearly killed your best friend. Oh, I’m sorry my friend killed your parents, he wasn’t feeling well when he was doing it. I had enough of SORRY. I had enough of all of you!”  </em>
</p><p>He should've known someone would come visit him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i don't want your apologies

**Author's Note:**

> (Pffft. probably won't get as many views on this as the other story)
> 
> just fooling around, wrote this. Crappy ending is crappy. Tony may be a bit out of character, I need practice writing him. also, spoilers to civil war, don't read if you haven't watched the movie.
> 
> otherwise, enjoy.

He should’ve known someone would bother to visit him.

He didn’t hear the android coming until the crimson man stood next to him, placing a hand on the metallic bar separating them from the shield and their touch. It wasn’t that he expected himself to hear the synthetic being anyway, with his thoughts clawing lines into reality’s grip, and conscience whispering murder under the disguise of guilt. Even that was too much for his ordinary senses to comprehend, and the fact he was biting his lip in frustration only added onto his incapability to take heed of his surroundings. Not that he usually did.

“Mr. Stark,” and the synthezoid’s greeting was carefully planned and thought out to the pinprick of perfection. “Hello.”

“Vision.” He answered, voice heavy with emotion that he did not intend to put in use. He sank his teeth more into his lip, turning so that the synthezoid did not see. “I see you’re away from the couch.”

“Well,” Vision’s mouth curled up at the corner, speaking softly in tones so quiet that they could ease Hulk from his rage, “You can only ponder your mistakes for so long before you feel yourself splitting at the seams. I’ve reached that point only some time ago.” The android looked past him, gaze leisurely making its way to the shield. The smirk faded. “I see you’ve been doing the same.”

“I have not.” His forceful tone made him rethink his statements, and somewhere inside his chaotic emotions he knew his abrupt denial was a clear sign of regret. His lip trembled, but he remained stoic, turning back only to glance upon the shield. The words plummeted from his self-control before he could stop them, before he could retract away from the android and away from help. “Alright, I have.”

“And, why, Mr. Stark, have you been pondering your mistakes?” The robotic being inquired gently, eyes locked onto the shields scratched surface. The tainted blue and red plating reflected off the humanoid’s bright blue ones, and he could only shuffle in silence as Vision calmly looked from the Frisbee towards him. “Is it related to our Captain? Your friend?”

He stayed silent, hands twitching uncontrollably in his pockets as the room took a dark turn. Apparently the robotic man noticed too; Vision quickly looked away to the side, averting his eyes in awkward shame. “You don’t have to answer, if it troubles you. I was told that the best way to brush off feelings of regret was to share them with others.” The synthetic coughed out, stiff in flustered embarrassment. “I was rude to ask without putting your personal comfort in front of my curiousity.” 

He didn’t answer. Staring coolly into the leftovers of his comrade, he paused, visuals swimming in overwhelming guilt. The robot’s question had left him as broken as the remains of his role in the Avengers. _What could he call the Captain now?_ Yes, the term comrade would fit, even if they had parted on the sourest of terms. He doubted the word ally could be used for a while, perhaps never. He broke eye contact with the shield, pausing only to glance at Vision, who was still innocently observing the floor. Ally could work.

He didn’t dare consider the word friend. That word had died with his morale, freshly murdered with the knowledge of how his parents actually died. He had broken the word friend as easily as he had broken spirits of cities with shells, of Charles Spencer. He had twisted it as quickly as Ultron had twisted the intentions of his true purpose. 

With those thoughts in mind he glared at the shield once more, memories of what had recently occurred overflowing the remains of his mental barrier. They kicked and stomped at it, shattering it into a few more million pieces like it should be in. Shivers running up his spine, he squeezed his hands into solid brick, chills reeking of hatred running circuits around his fingers. Looking down, he gulped away the bitter nausea; _repress, repress, repress,_ came the mental barriers repeating rapidly around his mind, but to no effect. The nausea seared as he swallowed his guilt, hot lava flowing slowly down into his chests centre to settles into brittle rock too weak to keep form. Mind blanking, he stared forward, seeing nothing but the star, the red, the blue and white. America’s shield seethed back and he took the hate in stride, his conscience’s carnal appetite groaning for attention.

He killed civilians in cold blood. It was his fault for every death, every little injury in the battlefield as he kicked bad guys ass, as they kicked bad guys ass. It wasn’t the other Avengers faults either; he was the one who had created this idea of a group, this whole “Avengers” organization that had been a disaster from the very start. New York: his fault, his screw-up. Then they had to muck up Hydra. Then Ultron, his fault, his very doing that turned against them. And then, and then, and then. He never stopped. Why should he, the great futurist, stop? It was toward the future, for the good of mankind. Every death was a minor setback. Every injury was a miscalculation. Every mistake was just inspiration towards the final progress. It didn’t matter at all if people die in the process. It didn’t matter at all. It was all towards the big picture.

_You don’t deserve that shield,_ he had screamed. _You don’t deserve it! My father made that shield!_

He didn’t deserve the shield either. 

“I’ve...don’t know what to call him now.” His voice started without warning, choking out the words as he collapsed exhausted against the cold metal of the bar. Vision finally looked up, and his eyes shone a blue question brimming with innocent interest. “He’s not a friend, he’s not an ally, he’s...he’s nothing.” He threw his hands up just to add emphasis. 

“He is still your friend, as much as you don’t want to admit it.” Vision corrected his thoughts, straightening the confused emotions before they scrambled again to wreak havoc. “If he truly did not forgive you for your mistakes, he would have taken the Avengers far away from you at the first possible chance.”

“Which he has now done.” He replied. His face smiled bitterly through his raging emotions. “Even God’s righteous man can’t forgive a poor sinner for his misdeeds.”

“That is not true, Mr. Stark.” Vision stated again, voice as silky soft as it was before. The machine cautiously turned to look at the shield, as if his glance would shatter it forever. “Even Gods have to take breaks from being the heroes.”

They were quiet.

“He knew the Winter Soldier killed my parents.” His voice was flat, harsh without the use of emotion. It sounded animalistic compared to the Vision’s soft, gentle one. “He knew and he did not tell me. Would a friend do that, Vision?” He tried not to sound aggressive, and failed miserably. “Would they?”

“He was trying to protect you.” Vision’s voice still retrained its soft spirit, easing his mind for temporary relief. The robot gestured towards the shield, as if trying to make a mild point. “In theory, many people think you can protect them by refraining from telling them the truth. The truth is that doing so only makes it worse.” 

The android looked past him towards a room behind him. He knew what room the synthezoid was staring at. “Trust me,” and he never before saw the robotic man look so ashamed, “I know.”

“You’ll see her again,” and his voice cracked; just thinking about Vision’s affliction with Wanda brought a sour taste to his mouth. “Most likely sooner than expected.” He tried to pull off his usual cocky demeanour, and got away with a half-decent version. He tried not to think of Peppers. 

As if Vision read his thoughts, the android gave a sad smile. “You will, too.”

He scoffed. “I’ve messed up on every step on my life towards success,” was all he simply said, his shoulders dipping under the weight of his sins. His hands had somehow found themselves back in his pockets. “I create the evil. I make it.”

“You didn’t necessary create all the evil.” Vision’s hand was warm on his shoulder, inviting in touch and feeling. He tried to break free of it, but it was a strong hold, strong with understanding and knowledge. It hurt to know the android cared this much, cared for someone who had just been there to cause nothing but grief. “Evil has always been there.”

“But I awakened it.” He leaned on the railing, reaching out a hand to touch the shields tortured surface. “I’m always the one to stomp on the ant hill to make the mess. Except, of course, I always bring a flamethrower to set it on fire first.” He faltered, hesitating in his tracing. His mouth twitched without his consent. “Then I poke around with a stick afterwards the big ants are gone, and create bigger ants.”

“You had no part in Loki’s ideology.” The synthezoid countered. “He came of his own will, his own ideas. Just as much as Ultron went into his. You may have poked into the sceptre to see what would occur, and bad may have happened, but without your insatiable curiousity, I would have not been created.”

“Yes, and look where that got us. You nearly killed Rhodey.” The words slipped from his tongues grasp before he could falter. He winced at his own harsh tone.

The heavy weight on his shoulder dropped. He turned just to spot Vision oddly making a face before shaking his head. “I got distracted.” The android reminded him, eyes heavy with guilt. He tried not to feel angry, but of course his emotions disobeyed anyway. “It was my first mistake. I’m...sorry.”

“Sorry won’t help him regain his full potential! Sorry won’t help the Avengers get back together! Sorry won’t make anything better!” He spun around, head swimming now. He furiously flung an arm towards the shield, nearly smacking the synthezoid in the face while he did so. “That’s all I get is sorry! _Oh, I’m sorry I can’t make up my mind. Oh, I’m sorry I nearly killed your best friend. Oh, I’m sorry my friend killed your parents, he wasn’t feeling well when he was doing it._ I had enough of SORRY. I had enough of all of you!” 

His voice was raised too loudly, snapping in the pressing strain he was placing into it. He didn’t dare to look up into Vision’s eyes. “I had enough of all of you,” he repeated again, louder this time, “Enough of your criticism, your techniques, and your so-called friendship! You all think I’m one of America’s RIGHTEOUS mans, or one of those SELFLESS HEROES that everyone admires Captain America for being! I’m a STARK. I screw every god DAMN thing my hands get on! Why? Because I’m human! I never learn! And I don’t say “Sorry.” I don’t say it because, well, what the hell, you’ll hear it from my lips too often. _‘Sorry for destroying a city, I wanted to build my own World Protection Kit. Sorry for destroying the Avengers, I was trying to please everyone. Sorry for locking your girlfriend up, because I wanted to look good in front of the government!’_ Stop treating me like I’m some innocent little shit caught up in heroes work, mourning because I lost a comrade because I’m not. I’m an asshole. I kill people. Good people. And I kill them.” His throat choked up, as almost as he had leftover coffee threatening to brew up into vomit. His hands found their way back into his pocket. He finally looked up at the robotic man, seeing confusion, hurt, and chaos. Just like he always brought upon everything. “That’s that. I don’t deserve a sorry.”

“Well,” and the robot’s voice was sincere with thoughtfulness. Something carnal in his heart snarled at him to shoo the synthezoid out, to throw him from the roof and watch his hopes shatter. To do exactly what had happened to him. He said nothing, waiting. He could see the thoughts rocketing through the robot’s head, ideas swarming into one big conclusion the ‘bot was about to drop straight onto him.

The Vision finally looked up, eyes inquiring in slit blue. The gentle voice asked, “What else can we do?”

Something in him snapped. 

“Oh, would you just stop with the **bullshit!** ” His lips burned, his heart slammed against his chest as he turned around and assaulted the startled android with brute sharpness. “Everything you say is pure **bullshit!** You can’t protect everyone. You can’t save everyone. Look at Wanda. She nearly killed you. You nearly killed her. You nearly killed Rhodey! You’re a risk, Vision. We don’t know what that THING,” and he sharply poked the air towards the Mindstone, “can do. We don’t know what YOU can do. Oh, here’s an idea. How about maybe you should go learn how to control that thing before you kill us all.” 

The Vision stood amidst the ruins of his rant, shaken by his words to only stare, shattered, into his eyes. Shining optics met his broken eyes, causing trembling waves of guilt to flow around his veins. “Well,” the android managed, voice trembling only the slightest, “you’ve given me much to think about, Mr. Stark. If you need me, I’ll be pondering at the couch.” With that, the android, twitching, vanished quietly into the carpet of the floor. 

“Dammit,” was all he could whisper as Vision left the room.


End file.
